


Idle Musings

by The_Arkadian



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Arkadian/pseuds/The_Arkadian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a drabble meme: prompt from privatesnarker: Romeo, Mercutio, “Have you ever wanted to hate someone?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idle Musings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [privatesnarker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/privatesnarker/gifts).



“Have you ever wanted to hate someone?”

Romeo looked up, startled, and stared at Mercutio. They'd been sitting in companionable silence for a while in the shade of a willow in the Giardini Pubblici Arsenale near the bank of the Adige. It was one of those golden tawny afternoons Verona did so well in the scorching July heat, the air somnolent and heavy with the tantalising promise of an evening storm that would do little to relieve the heat, the hours rolling by as slowly as the waters of the river, and all sane men avoided the midday heat.

Except of the many things one could accuse Mercutio of, sanity was rarely one of him; he of the insane plans that somehow only he could pull off – the daring escapades, the mischievousness of an unquiet mind, some joke or prank to be pulled and all in the name of avoidance of boredom which was as stifling to Mercutio as the oppressive heat and thus to be avoided at all costs.

Except in the face of the current airless intense heat even Mercutio's eternally restless soul seemed to have wilted and flagged; and thus it had not been hard for Romeo to persuade him to leave off for once and seek the shelter and shade of the old trees by the river where they might sprawl in what small breeze stirred over the sluggish oily-seeming waters of a late afternoon when neither duty nor idleness could bestir them from what seemed the one tolerable place in Verona right now.

They'd said nothing for over an hour and Romeo had been on the verge of drifting off into sleep when Mercutio's unexpected words startled him into wakefulness. As he glanced at Mercutio he realised his friend must have been pondering some troubling thought for some time; his gaze was distracted as he stared out over the river, biting absently upon a hangnail, his blue eyes distant. It suddenly occurred to Romeo that Mercutio had been strangely quiet, which was entirely out of character.

“You mean, apart from the Capulets?” replied Romeo with a grin.

“Hmm?” Mercutio glanced at him. “Everyone hates the Capulets. Even the Capulets hate the Capulets; they feed on hate. Not that you Montagues are much better but at least you have reason for your ire and less propensity for backstabbing.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Romeo as he sat up, stung by the indirect barb. “Take that back!”

Mercutio gave him a brief, tight smile. “I jest. Truly the Montagues are the epitome of virtue in a city of vice and you the very paragon of charm, my dear Romeo.”

“Now you _are_ jesting,” retorted Romeo. “I may be many things but I'm certainly no paragon.”

“There's many a jest ’twixt truth and flattery,” replied Mercutio.

“Come then, whom is it you hate?” asked Romeo. “Not I, I hope!” he added with a grin.

“Why should I hate Romeo, who is a friend to all but most of all to poor Mercutio?” his friend replied as he twisted around to sit facing Romeo.

“How can Mercutio be poor when he is the nephew of the Prince himself?” laughed Romeo. “You're far richer than I am!”

“There are many forms of wealth and many ways to be poor; the smallest church mouse may not have two grains of wheat to rub together but give him a mate, one who loves him – and why, is he not the richest mouse in all of Verona?”

“Is Mercutio in love then?” teased Romeo. “Come now, who's the lucky lady?”

“She would be an unfortunate creature indeed that I might set my cap at her, Romeo – but I leave the wooing of such creatures to you; you know I make doe eyes at no woman.”

“Then why be stirred to hate?” asked Romeo, feeling confused.

“Have you not heard that love and hate are but two sides of the same coin?” asked Mercutio as he leaned back against the tree trunk.

“I've heard it said but never believed it,” shrugged Romeo. “If you love someone, how can you hate them?”

“If one loves, but one's love is not returned, perhaps even as you love someone then in time you might come to hate them a little for not returning that love,” shrugged Mercutio.

“Then you _do_ love someone!” replied Romeo. “Who is she?”

“Say rather that perhaps I hate the slavery of such base emotions and prefer not to be ruled by them,” snorted Mercutio. “I told you, I have eyes for no woman. And anyway, it was I who asked you first. Tell me, Romeo; have you ever wanted to hate someone?”

“Only the Capulets, and they deserve it!” replied Romeo with a laugh as he lay back down and folded his arms behind his head.

Mercutio's echoing laugh was short; as Romeo returned to his idle daydreams, he was unaware of the wistful glance Mercutio cast upon him.

The day was long and hot, and Romeo soon forgot Mercutio's strange question.


End file.
